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OLIVER 

and 

THE CRYING CHIP 


By NANCY MILES DURANT 

* \\ 

Author of “A Book of Verses,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

A. B. BETANCOURT 



BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
1915 


Copyright, 1915 
Sherman, French & Company 



DEC 17 1915 


3.891 


©CI.A416941 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

“ One of the freshest chips walking about the 

pile.” Frontispiece y 

PAGE 

Bear and For-Bear 8 

“ c Those are bad things to see when you smoke/ ” . .17 

“ ‘ We’re on a Spree/ replied the Merry Lark gaily.” . 21 
“ ‘ Poor boy ! ’ whispered the Blue Devil.” . . .28 

“ * Are you “ the Little Bird ” that people often speak 


of ? ’ ” 47 

“ c Go back to the nursery, children ! ’ ” 53 

“ c I^m the Easter Babbit/ ” 63 


“ Beneath which Jack Frost was slowly melting away.” 68 
“ A bag so full of gold that it was bursting.” . 


71 


r 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 



CHAPTER I 


His feelings were hurt, terribly hurt, so Oliver 
went to his favorite hiding place, the woodshed, 
where he could cry if he felt like it. But of course 
he didn’t often do that, for he knew that really big 
boys, boys of seven or eight, never cried unless they 
were mashed up in a railroad wreck, or were “ took 
awful bad with the despeption ” as cook w^as some- 
times. He didn’t know what that was, but he knew 
it must be pretty bad from the way cook “ went on ” 
as he had heard Nurse describe it. 

This afternoon when he slipped away to the 
friendly shelter of the w r oodshed, he was quite sure 
that he felt worse than cook ever did, even with 
“ despeption,” so he threw himself down on the 
sofest pile of wood that he could find, and cried long 
and loudly. If you had asked him wdiat he was 
crying about, he would probably have said, “ Noth- 
ing, only my feelings is hurt.” Oliver was not over 
particular about his grammar. The truth was his 
older brothers had been teasing him a bit too much, 
and teasing was just one form of amusement that he 
couldn’t stand. 

After crying awhile he leaned his head on his 
1 


2 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


arms and lazily watched a little ray of sunlight 
which fell through a crack overhead on to a pile of 
white freshly cut chips, when suddenly he sat up 
with a jump. Surely he was not mistaken, — one of 
the chips moved. He leaned over and looked again. 
Yes, sure enough, there was one of the freshest chips 
walking about the pile in a very lively way. 

“ Hello ! ” he called, “ I didn't know that chips 
could walk.” 

“ You didn’t! ” snapped the Chip, turning a cross 
look on him. “ Well, maybe you don’t know much 
about chips.” 

“ I don’t,” replied Oliver ; “ I am very sorry if I 
have offended you, I am sure I didn’t mean to.” 

“ Maybe you didn’t,” said the Chip in a hurt 
tone, “ but considering how well you know me, it 
does seem strange that you should treat me in such 
a manner ! ” and large tears ran down her wooden 
face. 

“ Oh ! ” cried Oliver in distress, for he hated to 
hurt anyone’s feelings, “ I’m so sorry if I’ve said 
anything to make you feel badly. And of course I 
know you, if you say so, only I had sorter forgotten. 
Do forgive me ! ” 

“ ‘ Sorter forgotten,’ indeed ! ” sniffed the Chip, 
wiping her eyes. 

“ What have I done? ” said Oliver. “ Dear Chip, 
what have I done? ” 

“ Miss Chip, if you please,” snapped the Chip 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


3 


sharply. “ Really, I don’t see why because you 
know me so well you should not treat me with re- 
spect,” and again tears rolled from her dry looking 
eyes. 

It was all very queer to Oliver ; he was very eager 
to find out how lie had hurt the Chip’s feelings. 
So, after a pause, “ Dear Miss Chip,” he said as 
politely as he could, “ if you will explain to me how 
I came to know you so well, and what I have done 
to offend you, I will ask your pardon.” 

Again the Chip turned a tearful face towards 
him. 

“ My dear friend,” she replied, “ your memory is 
short. For a long while I have lived most of the 
time just under your eyes, — if you had ever turned 
your head over your shoulder. I can’t begin to tell 
you how many times I have found myself rudely 
knocked off. Gladly would I move, but you insist 
upon keeping me there ; then you get into a quarrel, 
and I am the one who is hurt. Maybe you do not 
know, that my feelings are easily hurt. That’s be- 
cause I am very sensitive and proud. My whole 
family are that way.” 

Before Oliver could say anything more, there was 
a shrill laugh, and a sharp, thread-like voice chirped 
cut, “ Why, of course. She’s a chip of the old 
block ! Ha, ha, — see the joke? ” 

“ Who is that? ” he asked eagerly. 

“ It’s the Proverbial Pin,” replied the Chip. 


4 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ He thinks himself very smart, and has an impor- 
tant air about him that makes me sick.” She fin- 
ished with a snap. 

“ I don’t know him,” said Oliver, “ and I don’t 
see him. Where is he, anyway? ” He started to 
get up. 

The Chip shrugged her shoulders. “ Oh, he’s 
way up on one of those logs you are lying on. 
Don’t move, or you might shake him off. Strictly 
between ourselves,” — she leaned towards Oliver 
confidentially, — “ he is something of a poseur 

Oliver nodded, though he didn’t understand one 
bit what that meant. 

“ He loves to talk,” continued the Chip, “ but 
won’t do so until he has first performed his great 
stunt of dropping into the midst of the audience. 
Shu — s! He’s going to do it now! See how at- 
tentive everyone is?” The Chip looked quite ex- 
cited, her own grievances forgotten for the mo- 
ment. 

Oliver gazed about him open mouthed. He had 
thought the Chip and himself the only ones in the 
woodshed, — now he was surprised to see quite a 
number of queer looking creatures all grouped about 
the pile of logs on which he sat. Absolute silence 
followed the Chip’s remark, and Oliver, looking at 
the highest point of logs, saw a great big Pin stand- 
ing on the end of a log of wood. The next moment 
he dropped on to a little pile of sawdust with a 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


5 


thud, when he sprang up with a beaming smile, 
shouting in his thin voice, “ Did everyone hear me 
fall? Then,” continued the pin without waiting 
for an answer, “ we can now find out what the 
trouble is between Miss Chip and Master Oliver.” 

Oliver felt his face getting red, and wished he 
could slip away, but already the Chip was beside 
him, clutching his sleeve and saying in a tearful 
voice, “ You would not think of leaving me now, 
would you, dear Oliver? ” 

“ Certainly I won’t ! ” he stoutly replied, not 
knowing what she meant, and feeling quite embar- 
rassed as she laid her bark-crowned head on his 
shoulder. As she did so an enraged voice exclaimed 
hoarsely : 

“None of that, Miss! None of that! Move, I 
say, or I’ll make you ! ” and suiting the action to 
the word a great creature, with frowns and scowls, 
knocked the poor trembling Chip off Oliver’s shoul- 
der. 

Instantly his manly blood was up; he was itch- 
ing for a fight with the rude bully. 

“ Who are you ? ” he cried, springing to his feet, 
beginning to roll up his sleeves. 

“ He’s a first cousin of ours,” chirped in two 
sharp voices. Oliver turned to face a couple of 
ugly knotted sticks. “ His name is Cross Patch,” 
they continued ; “ if you fight him, you fight us ! ” 

They glared at Oliver. But not to be fright- 


6 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


ened, he boldly replied, “ Come on, I’ll fight all 
three of you ! ” and sure enough he found himself 
the next minute in the thick of a most exciting 
battle. 

He got some pretty hard knocks until the Two 
Sticks began quarreling, and left off fighting to 
pommel one another. They were presently sepa- 
rated by the Meat Axe, who was so sharp with them 
that they sat down, much subdued and rather 
cut-up. 

As soon as Cross Patch saw what had happened 
to them, and that the Meat Axe was coming to his 
opponent’s aid, he also stopped and slunk away, 
while everyone cheered Oliver as victor. He had 
just begun to feel quite proud when again he felt 
himself touched on the arm and heard a little voice 
whisper, 

“ Be as quiet as I am, and I’ll get you out of all 
this. Come on ! ” 

“But who are you?” he asked suspiciously, 
drawing back. 

“ I am knowm to children as the Quiet Mouse,” 
replied the small voice, and Oliver found himself 
looking into two very bright little eyes. 

“ Of course,” continued the voice, “ you have 
often had your mother tell you to be ‘ as quiet as 
a mouse’? Well, I am that particular mouse. 
None ever lived as quiet as I am. I can run across 
the floor without making any noise. J ust listen ! ” 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 7 


And away she went, calling in a soft voice, “ Come 
on, come on ! ” 

Not knowing anything better to do, Oliver fol- 
lowed, and found himself presently out in the woods 
beside two big pine trees, under the branches of 
which sat two large Bears. At the sight of them 
he was about to turn and run back, but he felt 
something on his shoulder, and turning his head, 
saw the Chip, looking almost pleasant. The bright 
eyes of the Mouse peered at him from the branches 
of the pine tree, and suddenly a shrill voice called 
to him, 

“ Stop, stop, don’t run away! Just keep quiet 
until I drop, and then I’ll explain who they 
are.” 

At once there was a sudden silence in the woods ; 
even the birds flying about and singing stopped in 
mid-air, holding their breath, while there followed 
a faint sound as the Pin dropped to the ground 
from a near-by twig. 

“ Now! ” he exclaimed, standing on a grey stone 
so as to be sure of being seen by everyone, “ let me 
introduce you to two of your best friends, Master 
Oliver, only you don’t always know them, Bear and 
For-Bear ! ” He finished with a flourish and a 
chuckle, as the two Bears got up and bowed 
solemnly. 

Oliver felt very stupid at not being able to say 
something nice, so stammered rather lamely, “ How 



; ~ .. . . _ 

**'v 

? ’"'•v 






'-p.W»~sr' 


Bear and For-Bear 






OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 9 


d’ye do? I’ve heard my mother and father speak 
of you so often. I’m so glad to meet you.” 

“ Yes,” smiled Bear, “ your mother is a par- 
ticular friend of mine.” 

“ Yes,” echoed For-Bear, “ your father is an old 
friend of mine.” 

“ In fact, we are proud to say that we are both 
old and valued friends of your parents, my boy,” 
finished the two together, bowing again and smiling 
broadly, as they each laid a kindly but heavy paw 
on his shoulder. 

“ We’ve heard a lot about him,” said Bear, wink- 
ing at the Mouse. 

Unfortunately, as he said this he knocked the 
Chip off Oliver’s shoulder, who immediately drew 
himself up and looked hurt. He felt just the way 
he did at home when his father made such remarks 
to his mother, and winked that way. But before 
he could say anything a wail from the Chip, who 
lay flat on the ground, caught his ear. 

“ Oh, oh, oh ! ” she cried. “ Why will you carry 
me around on your shoulder if I am to be treated in 
this way? Oh, oh!” 

Oliver felt sorry to see the Chip so distressed, but 
he was also angry at being blamed by her in so un- 
just a manner. 

“ I don’t want to carry you about on my shoul- 
der,” he stoutly declared; “you want to sit there, 
and when you get knocked off you blame me.” 


10 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


He stopped, red in the face, for the two Bears 
were looking at him gravely, and slowly shook their 
big heads. 

“ I see what it is,” said Bear ; “ you and the Chip 
will have to make a compact to be friends.” 

“ Yes,” added For-Bear. “ If the Chip will 
promise not to get on your shoulder, you can 
promise that she will never get knocked off, — see? ” 

“ That looks as if he were going to ‘ shake me,’ ” 
snapped the Chip, sitting up very briskly. 

“ Not at all,” said Bear ; “ he’s only going to keep 
you from getting hurt.” 

The Chip sniffed and looked disdainful, and 
Oliver felt too embarrassed to speak. In the silence 
that followed the Proverbial Pin dropped again in 
their midst. 

“ Anyone but a wooden image would understand 
that,” he remarked in a would-be clever tone. 

The Chip started to answer him, when the Quiet 
Mouse spoke up in a soft and gentle voice, 

“ Come, Oliver, you’re the man ; be generous, and 
do the square thing. Admit you’ve always rather 
enjoyed carrying the Chip around on your shoul- 
der, and thought it manly and fine to fight anyone 
who knocked her off. There are lots of other shoul- 
ders that the Chip can rest on. Anyone as popular 
as you are, Madam,” — here the Mouse bowed gal- 
lantly to the Chip, — “ cannot fail to be so accommo- 
dated.” 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 11 


Oliver was grateful to the Mouse for getting him 
out of his difficulty so well, and hastened to show 
his appreciation by shaking hands with the Chip. 

“ Well,” said Bear heartily, slipping his arm 
through Oliver’s, “ I am glad to see you two friends, 
and yet apart ! ” And he laughed, a big, friendly 
laugh. 

“ And so am I,” echoed For-Bear, taking his other 
arm. 

The Mouse ran silently ahead, calling softly, 

“ Come on, good people, follow me, or we’ll be 
late for lunch with Good-as-Gold.” 


CHAPTER II 


By this time it seemed quite natural to Oliver to 
find himself seated at a big mushroom table beside 
a forest stream, surrounded by the creatures whom 
he now called his friends. On either side of him 
sat the two Bears, while the Mouse, the Chip, and 
the Proverbial Pin were there also. 

His host, Good-as-Gold, was a queer looking chap. 
One could not exactly describe him. He was 
rugged and shiny in spots. Of course, Oliver knew 
that he wasn’t really gold ; but everyone assured 
him that he was just as good, so he didn’t worry 
about his looks, especially as he was kindly in his 
manner, cheery of voice, and best of all, gave his 
guests a fine dinner. He seemed to get on with 
every one, making them all feel as if they were 
lovely and good and sweet. 

The company w r ere just in the midst of the jolliest 
sort of time, when suddenly it grew damp and 
chill. 

The sun seemed to go under a cloud, and the 
merry-makers grew so quiet that the Proverbial Pin, 
falling off his seat, made such a noise that everyone 
jumped. 


12 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 13 


Oliver looked around and saw coming from the 
stream which ran near by a most strange and 
scary creature. It was tall and broad and thin and 
square, with wooly sides that dripped water. It 
had skinny legs and big, soft, heavy-looking feet, 
and its head looked for all the world like a huge 
sponge from which peered out a pair of mean, soapy 
looking eyes. 

“ What on earth is that? ” he whispered, snug- 
gling up to warm, comfortable Bear. 

“ It is the Wet Blanket,” said For-Bear, with a 
look of disgust. “ Try not to notice him.” 

But the newcomer had no idea of not being seen, 
and although he had not been invited to join the 
party, Good-as-Gold in his usual courteous way in- 
vited him to be seated and offered him some of the 
dessert. 

“ No, thank you, none for me,” said the Wet 
Blanket in a disagreeable voice ; “ that sort of stuff 
never agrees with me. I can’t see why on earth 
people want to eat such mixtures ! And what the 
fun is of eating out-of-doors anyway, beats me. The 
food gets cold, and the red bugs bite, and everyone 
looks frowsy, and nothing is comfortable. For my 
part, give me plenty of water, and everything home- 
like and wet and soggy, as I’m used to.” And he 
sniffed in a superior way, and crossed one leg over 
the other, as he settled himself against a near-by 
rock. 


14 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


He looked as if lie had no idea of moving, so tlie 
Quiet Mouse ventured to say softly : 

“ Since you will not eat anything, won’t you take 
a glass of wine? ” 

“ Well, I don’t care if I do,” replied the Wet 
Blanket ; “ though I suppose it’s home-made stuff 
and pretty poor. As for me, I never get anything 
but French wine.” 

“ Isn’t this a pretty spot for a picnic? ” ventured 
Oliver politely. 

“ Pretty enough,” grunted the Wet Blanket; “ but 
horribly damp. I should have chosen a drier 
place.” 

The Chip showed signs of great uneasiness, and 
For-Bear, seeing that she would presently be mak- 
ing snappy remarks, tried to smooth things out. 

“ Lovely weather we are having,” he remarked, 
with his big smile. 

“ Well, it depends upon what you call lovely,” 
said the Wet Blanket, looking up at the sunny sky 
through the trees ; “ probably the Chip likes it, — 
dry and warm. A wet Chip can’t kindle a flame, 
as the old saying is, and our young lady friend is 
fond of sparking, or is it sparring? ” and he gave a 
soggy laugh. 

“ You’d extinguish any spark of romance ! ” 
snapped the Chip. “ I didn’t come here to be in- 
sulted ! ” she finished tearfully, getting up and 
flouncing away. 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 15 


“ Oh ! ” cried Good-as-Gold. “ That’s too bad ! 
Come back, Miss Chip ! No one meant to hurt your 
feelings, I’m sure.” 

“ Of course not,” assented the Wet Blanket 
gruffly. “ You can come back, Madam ; I’m going. 
I only stopped in on my way to visit the Flounder, 
who is as flat as usual. I’m just going over to cheer 
him up a bit. If there is one thing I do believe in 
it’s cheerf ulness. I always look on the bright side, 
and think it’s a great pity other people don’t do the 
same. Well, good-day; hope you’ll enjoy your- 
selves.” 

He moved slowly off, then stopped and turned 
around, saying, 

“ You’d better start home. I think I hear 
thunder, and this time of year thunderstorms are 
very dangerous. Good-bye again! Next time be 
sure and choose a drier place, and let me order your 
wine for you, — that home-made stuff is no good at 
all!” 

As he disappeared, everyone heaved a sigh of re- 
lief, and if Bear and For-Bear had not been pres- 
ent, there is no saying how many disagreeable re- 
marks would have been made. Even Good-as-Gold 
voted the Wet Blanket a horrid bore, and as for the 
Chip, she said that his was the one shoulder she 
would never care to rest on, since she was sure that 
she would be knocked off all the time. 

Although it had been mid-day when they sat down 


16 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


to lunch with Good-as-Gold, it seemed to get dark 
quite suddenly, and immediately Oliver found him- 
self wandering along a country road. He felt 
lonely and hungry in spite of Good-as-Gold’s lunch, 
and sat down on a stone beside the road, wondering 
if they were all eating supper in the nursery dining- 
room now, and if they were having his favorite kind 
of jam. He wished he were there, and was just be- 
ginning to cry when he saw the Chip beside him. 

“ Your family don’t seem to look after you much,” 
she said. 

Oliver suddenly felt hurt that no one seemed to 
care about him ; he also felt hungrier than ever be- 
fore, and told the Chip so. 

“ Hungry already ! ” she exclaimed. “ That’s be- 
cause boys never eat at the right time. However, 
I’ll help you out if I can. Come with me over to the 
Magic Photographer’s ; he has ‘ the stuff that dreams 
are made of,’ and really when it’s made into ‘ dough ’ 
it’s not bad at all.” 

So up the road they went until they reached a 
house, on the steps of which sat a queer little old 
man, smoking a long pipe and blowing clouds of 
smoke of different colors into the air. 

“ Well, I never saw that before ! ” exclaimed 
Oliver. 

“ What? ” asked the Chip. “ Why, smoke is all 
sorts of colors.” 

“ That isn’t smoke,” the little old man said slowly. 



“ ‘ Those are bad things to see when you smoke/ ” 


18 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ Those are dream pictures. Men often see them 
when they are smoking. You are too young, I 
think ; but sit here beside me and try this little pipe, 
and tell me what you see.” 

He made room beside him on the step, and gave 
Oliver a funny little pipe which he lighted from his 
big one. After one or two puffs he asked kindly, 

“ Well, what do you see in the smoke of your pipe, 
my boy? ” 

“ I see things to eat,” replied Oliver ; “ cake and 
candy and icecream and nuts and chewing gum and 
all sorts of fine things.” 

The little man laughed. 

“ Those are bad things to see when you smoke, 
and show that you are too young to do it, as I said. 
You should smoke after you’ve had all you want of 
such things. Come in my house,” he added, “ and 
I’ll give you some supper and then show you my 
workrooms.” 

Although Oliver felt half starved, the more he ate 
the hungrier lie felt. However, he was a very polite 
little boy ; he put down his knife and fork when the 
old man did, and followed his host into the big 
room which he called his “ picture gallery.” There 
his eyes nearly popped out of his head with delight. 
All about the cream-colored walls were arranged 
pipes and cigars of different sizes, — some in groups, 
others single, — and as the little old man lighted 
one after the other, wonderful pictures appeared in 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 19 


the air. Many of them Oliver did not understand, 
and although some of the pictures of ladies were 
very pretty, he liked best the ones of dogs and guns 
and fishing parties, of woods and fields and boats on 
sunny waters. He clapped his hands with delight 
when he saw his father and pet uncle in the fields 
near home with dear old Pat, their faithful pointer. 

“ Old Man,” he said, after he had gone all round 
the room, “ I don’t see any cigarette pictures. Why 
is that? ” 

“ The pictures from cigarette smoke don’t amount 
to much and don’t last,” replied the old fellow. 
“ Cigar smoke gives good pictures, and pipes best 
of all. They are pretty and peaceful and restful, 
while those from cigarettes are more like Night- 
mares.” 

“ What are Night Mares anyway? ” Oliver asked 
earnestly. 

But before the Old Man could reply, the door of 
the picture gallery burst open, and in rushed the 
Merry Lark. 

“ Come on ! ” he cried, catching Oliver by the 
arm and dragging him off. “ Do stop dreaming, 
and let’s get busy and make a night of it. Come 
with me, and I’ll give you a fine time.” 

Oliver would have stopped to say good-bye to the 
Old Man, but suddenly the picture gallery and 
everything in it faded away, and he found himself 
in a cosy room with bright lights, sitting at a table 


20 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


with the Merry Lark and a lot of his friends. Much 
to his disgust the Chip was there too, but the Lark 
and his friends were making such a noise that if the 
Proverbial Pin were present, no one knew it. The 
Chip was on the shoulder of first one gay fellow and 
then another, and seemed to be constantly getting 
herself and others into a quarrel. Oliver almost 
got into a fight with the Merry Lark. They had a 
lot to eat, and the Larks had been drinking much 
more than Oliver had ever seen anyone do, — even 
at Christmas dinner at home, when he Avatclied the 
grown-ups and waited for dessert. 

Finally he ventured to ask the Merry Lark why 
he had such a long bill, — •“ I always thought Larks 
had little beaks like most birds.” 

“ There’s where you’re mistaken ! ” replied the 
Merry Lark crossly. “ We fellows have bills and 
big ones, too, — they go with this sort of life, just as 
songs go with canary birds. What would people 
do if they bought a canary and got no song? Well, 
in the same way, who’d feel they’d had a Lark if 
there Avas no bill attached to it, eh? ” 

But Oliver couldn’t ansAver him, as he didn’t 
know Avhat to say. He was just puzzling his brain 
to know what he meant, when suddenly into the 
room rushed some terrible, terrible looking crea- 
tures. He was so scared that he would have 
screamed, but he was knocked down and a big gray 
hand was put over his mouth, while one of the 





“ ‘ We’re on a Spree/ replied the Merry Lark gaily.” 



22 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


creatures sat on his chest. There’s no telling what 
would have happened next if the Merry Lark had 
not grabbed him and flown out of the door with him, 
and, panting with excitement, he suddenly found 
himself in the queerest kind of thing. It looked 
something like an automobile, a little like a hay 
wagon, just a bit like a Pullman car, and rather like 
a boat. It was soft to sit on, and went very fast, 
but bumped so it made your head ache, and wobbled 
around like a boat in a gale. 

He held on with both hands while the Merry Lark 
cried, “ Faster, faster ! The faster the funnier ! — 
Hurrah ! ” 

“ What — what — what is this, and where are we 
going? ” gasped Oliver. 

“ We’re on a Spree, and we are going to the Isle 
of Fun and Frolic,” replied the Merry Lark gaily. 

“But I don’t want to be on a Spree!” cried 
Oliver. “ I have heard my Papa say many things 
about Sprees, and they’re bad and wicked. Our 
butler got on one once, and he was awful sick, and 
Papa sent him to the police station. I want to get 
off, I tell you! You’re a bad fellow! Help! 
Help!” 

“ Sure, I’ll help you ! ” cried a hearty voice, and 
the next moment he found himself in the com- 
fortable arms of old Bear, while the Merry Lark 
flew off, laughing uproariously. 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 23 


“ My, but I’m glad you turned up,” sighed Oliver. 
“ That fellow almost did for me.” 

“ He’s a rough fellow when he gets too gay,” 
said the Bear ; “ but he’s quite harmless as a rule, 
and everyone likes him once in a while.” 

“ Who were those dreadful creatures that rushed 
into the room and broke up our supper party, I 
wonder? ” asked Oliver. “ My, but it makes me 
feel shivery to think of them ! ” 

“ Those were Night Mares,” explained Bear. 
“ They make war on the Merry Larks all the time. 
They are not as dangerous as they look, but I agree 
with you they make one shivery. They never dis- 
turb breakfast or luncheon parties or nursery tea 
parties, but generally come after hearty dinners or 
late suppers with lots of indigestible food that 
small children, or even grown-ups, shouldn’t eat.” 


CHAPTER III 


While they were talking, Oliver found himself 
walking through the woods with Bear and his other 
friends, who quite suddenly, but naturally, had 
joined them. It was moonlight, and everywhere 
was almost as bright as day. Presently they came 
into a large open space, made by an old clearing 
half filled with dead stumps of trees, — a dreary, 
marshy sort of place. One large stump near the 
middle attracted Oliver’s attention because of two 
curious looking things which were running around 
it. One of them looked so much like an everyday 
boy that Oliver called out, “ Hello ! ” But he had 
no sooner gotten the first half of the word out than 
a queer looking creature arose from behind the 
stump and Oliver drew back against the Bears, 
frightened. It looked just exactly like the pictures 
on the cans of “ the highest grade of devilled ham,” 
horns, tail and all. 

The moment he showed himself above the stump, 
the other creature that looked like a boy waved a 
stick over his head and rushed at him, beating him 
as hard as he could. Around and around the stump 
they both went, the boy shouting something over 
and over, and the other laughing. 

24 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 25 


“ What are they doing? ” asked Oliver, so curious 
that he forgot his fears. 

“ That boy,” explained the Mouse softly, “ is do- 
ing what all boys do sometimes, only he has done it 
so often that it has grown to be a habit with him, 
and he can’t stop it. Doubtless, my dear Oliver, 
you’ve done the same thing sometime or other your- 
self.” 

The company all looked at Oliver and smiled. 

“ Done what? ” asked Oliver, blushing and begin- 
ning to guess. 

“ Why, ‘ beating the devil around the stump ’ in- 
stead of being quite outspoken and honest,” said 
Bear gravely. 

“ Oh, I shall never do that again ! ” cried Oliver, 
quite innocently giving himself away, and when 
everyone laughed, he wondered why, though he felt 
his face growing very red. But apparently no one 
noticed that, and Bear drew him along, saying, 

“ Here we are at the Cave of the Dumps, which I 
am sure you will find interesting. But it is a very 
gloomy and depressing place, so we won’t linger 
long.” 

They had been walking as he spoke, and now in 
front of them, behind a clump of dead trees, loomed, 
black and forbidding, the mouth of a cave. Oliver 
hardly dared to look in, but tipping gingerly after 
the Mouse, he peeped in half fearfully. The Cave 
was quite large, and dimly lighted by a pale blue 


26 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


light. Inside, seated all about were queer little 
blue creatures that looked something like the fig- 
ure he had just seen the boy beating around the 
stump. 

“ What place is this, and who are they? ” he asked 
the Mouse in a whisper. 

“ Those are the Blue Devils, — almost everybody 
knows them,” whispered the Quiet Mouse. “ They 
come here when they get out of sorts, — that’s why 
the cave is called ‘ Dumps.’ ” 

“ Why don’t the poor things come out? ” he asked 
kindly Bear. 

“ Because they don’t want to, my dear,” he re- 
plied. “ Maybe you have never met a real true and 
true ‘ Blue Devil.’ That kind go to the Cave of the 
Dumps just because they want to, and sit down 
and won’t move. They think they are sort of mar- 
tyrs and really enjoy being miserable. You might 
stand outside all day and argue with them, make 
funny remarks, laugh and try to cheer them up, — 
but no, indeed ; they’ll only look more wretched than 
ever. Sometimes they come here just to have a big 
crying fit. Do you see that stream that runs 
through the Cave with white rocks forming the 
banks? ” Oliver nodded. “ Well,” continued the 
Bear, “ that’s supplied entirely with the tears that 
the Blue Devils shed. The rocks are made from the 
salt of the dried-up tears. Some of the Blue Devils 
like to see how big they can make that stream. 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 27 


The moment they enter the cave they sit by it 
and let their tears run in it.” 

“ How awfully silly of them ! ” exclaimed Oliver. 

“ Step inside,” said For-Bear, giving Oliver a 
gentle push, “ and see how it makes you feel.” 

“ Oh, shucks ! ” exclaimed Oliver stoutly ; “ I’d 
like to see anything of that sort make me cry ! ” 

And he boldly walked in the cave and sat down 
beside a poor little snivelling devil. But what was 
his dismay when he suddenly found the tears run- 
ning down his cheeks, and the next moment he and 
the little Blue Devil were clasped in one another’s 
arms, both crying hard. 

“ Poor Boy ! ” whispered the Blue Devil ; “ you 
certainly have a hard time. Your friends don’t 
treat you right, and no one understands you.” 

“ You are right,” wailed Oliver dismally, “ and 
I do my best, and try and try and try.” 

“ Your mother and father are real mean to you ! ” 
said the Blue Devil. 

“ And no one knows how I am teased and 
scolded ! ” sobbed Oliver. 

“ I don’t see how you stand it ! ” said the Blue 
Devil. 

“ There isn’t any fun in anything,” replied Oliver, 
tears still running down his face. 

There is no telling how long he would have re- 
mained in the Cave of the Dumps if a cheery, strong 
voice hadn’t called out, 



iC c Poor boy ! * whispered the Blue Devil.” 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 29 


“Come, Oliver; brace up, and get out of this.” 
And his arm was given a mighty tug, and he found 
himself safely landed in the midst of the cool, green 
forest. 

It was morning now, and the sun was shining 
gaily. Oliver looked around to see who had helped 
him out of the cave, but no one was in sight. At 
first he thought himself alone, but the next mo- 
ment the Proverbial Pin dropped near him, and 
said, 

“ The rest are waiting for you at the Inn, and it’s 
near dinner time, so we must hurry. Why on earth 
did you waste so much time in the direction of the 
Cave? ” 

“ I didn’t mean to do so, and I am sorry,” said 
Oliver sadly. 

“ Oh, everybody goes there after being with the 
Merry Lark. But I’m glad you’re out ; it’s a mean 
place to be.” 

“ Who is that chap that helped me out? ” asked 
Oliver eagerly. 

“ That’s the Bracer. He helps anyone that needs 
help, and especially those that get into the Cave of 
the Dumps. You see, the Blue Devils pretend to be 
friends of those who go into the Cave, but really 
they are mean, selfish creatures who delight to see 
others as unhappy as they are, so they hold on tight 
to you if they once get you in their hands.” 

“ Well, I shan’t forget the Bracer,” sighed Oliver, 


30 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ only I do wish I could see him to thank him. Do 
you know where he is? ” 

“ Oh, he’s always around,” said the Pin, “ only he 
hasn’t time to waste on people who really don’t need 
him, you know. He’s terribly busy all the year 
round, but getting people out of the Cave of Dumps 
is the hardest work he has, and it takes lots of time.” 

“ Why did you all leave me in there? ” said Oliver, 
in rather a hurt tone. 

“ Because we couldn’t get you out,” replied the 
Pin pointedly. “ Bear and For-Bear begged you 
to come with them, but you didn’t even hear them.” 

Oliver looked ashamed, but before he could ask 
any more questions, they came out of the woods on 
to a smooth white road on the side of which stood a 
very pretty house. 

“ Come in with me,” called Bear from the door ; 
“ I want to show you something. Our friend can 
walk on, and we'll catch up with him later.” 

It was cheery inside, and Oliver gave a sigh of re- 
lief. 

“ What is the name of this place? ” he asked Bear, 
who had greeted him kindly, without mentioning 
the Cave of the Dumps. 

“ This is called the Inn of Good Resolutions,” re- 
plied the big fellow with a smile. “ You see,” he 
went on, “ every one feels that they must stop here 
a while when they leave the Cave. And they gen- 
erally leave records here of resolves never to go in 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 31 


the Cave again, or speak to a Blue Devil. I say 
leave their records here, because, as a rule, they 
really do that! Just leave them here and forget 
all about them. Come in and see.” 

Bear led Oliver into a large room which he saw 
was filled with papers of all sizes and kinds, with 
writing on them. Some looked very old, black, and 
dingy, while others were quite new. He was sur- 
prised to see his own name on one. 

“Why!” he exclaimed; “who put that here?” 

“ Ho, ho,” chuckled Bear in his kindly way ; 
“ that’s the good resolution you made when you 
left the cave just now.” 

“ But I never wrote it ; I only thought it ! ” ex- 
claimed Oliver puzzled. 

“ Just so,” explained the Bear. “ You see,” he 
went on, “ there’s a very wonderful machine here 
which writes down everybody’s good resolutions ; it 
not only writes down the good resolves, but also 
what made one go to the Blue Devils. Now,” he 
continued, lowering his voice, “ you see this wonder- 
ful machine has put on paper what made you blue, 
and I fear you would feel ashamed if you could see 
it in black and white. But let us have a look at 
it.” 

Oliver was beginning to feel very badly, and 
Bear had just taken the paper in his paw to open 
it, when both were startled by the sound of a heavy 
fall, followed by a squeal and a helpless flapping of 


32 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


wings. He peered out and called excitedly to 
Bear, 

“ Come here, quick ! Oh, do come ; something is 
hurt, and oh, — it is the queerest thing I ever saw ! ” 

Oliver was very much excited and could hardly 
wait until Bear lumbered slowly across the room, 
when he made way for him at the window. 

“ Humph ! ” he growled, as he looked down on the 
ground; “just as I expected. The sneaking 
scoundrel ! ” 

This was severe from Bear, and Oliver looked up 
at him in surprise. 

“ Follow me,” said his shaggy friend, “ and I’ll 
show you who this is. Served him right to get such 
a drop ! ” he muttered, as he hurriedly left the 
room, followed by the curious boy. 

Outside they stopped, and Bear, taking a long 
stick, punched the object lying huddled together 
under the window. 

“ Get up ! you horrid creature ! ” he growled, and 
Oliver, watching with bulging eyes, saw a bat-like 
thing drag itself slowly up and sit down on the 
edge of the stone gutter. It was certainly very 
ugly looking, and made him think of a bat with a 
monkey’s face. Two mean, sly little eyes moved 
from side to side under a low, wrinkled forehead; 
cruel, thin brown lips half covered its sharp yellow 
teeth. But its ears were the queerest things about 
this curious creature. They were enormous, and 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 33 


moved backward and forward as though they were 
always listening to something. 

“ Are you hurt? ” enquired Oliver politely, afraid 
that he had seemed rude in staring so hard. 

“ Of course he’s not hurt ! ” broke in Bear gruffly. 
“ It served him right ; he probably didn’t hear any- 
thing good of himself.” And taking Oliver’s arm 
he led him away, saying, “ Come on, my boy ; ’twill 
do you no good to talk to so low a creature. Come 
into the house again, and I’ll show you the wonder- 
ful instrument I was speaking of awhile ago.” 

Oliver followed, though he would liked to have 
had one more look at the bat-like thing in the gut- 
ter. 

“ What is its name? ” he asked Bear, pointing to 
the little dark object they were leaving. 

“ Oh, of course; I forgot you don’t know. You’ve 
heard the name, however, very often, — that is the 
Eaves Dropper.” 

“ Why ! ” exclaimed Oliver, “ I’ve heard of him 
often and often. Nurse used to tell me that ‘ Eaves 
Droppers never hear any good of themselves,’ but I 
never knew that they looked like that. Why do 
they? ” 

Bear smiled and squeezed Oliver’s arm in a 
friendly way. 

“ I see that you think every one in this part of 
the world must have a reason for looking as they do. 
Well, you are quite right, my dear boy. Now the 


34 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


Eaves Dropper looks the way he does because of the 
way he sneaks around in the dark, — which accounts 
for his bat-like appearance, — and hangs on to the 
eaves, leaning over near to windows and doors. 
His enormous ears have grown so large because he’s 
always listening at cracks to things not meant for 
him to hear. And his cruel sneering lips are caused 
by always having to pretend either that he has not 
heard, or that he isn’t hurt by what he hears. He 
generally hears something unpleasant about him- 
self, or else he drops off his perch and gets hurt 
in that way. He is a mean, low character! He 
carries about gossip and scandal and then lets the 
Little Bird get blamed for it. You have heard peo- 
ple say, ‘A Little Bird told me’? Well, half the 
time it isn’t the Little Bird at all, — but the Eaves 
Dropper. Just wait until you meet the Little Bird, 
and you’ll see the difference.” 

They were walking away from the Inn while they 
talked, as Oliver noticed to his tardy surprise, and 
now he exclaimed : 

“ Oh, my ! You never showed me that wonderful 
machine.” 

“ Tut, tut ! Too bad ! ” said Bear, turning around 
hastily. “ Come, let’s hurry, and maybe we can 
overtake the Inn. But you know good resolutions 
are very hard to catch up with once you let them 
go.” 

Bear forthwith started to run, Oliver following 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 35 


as fast as he could. But the smooth road that they 
had so easily traveled awhile ago had now mys- 
teriously disappeared, and in its place was the thick 
underbrush of the woods. 

Bear stopped, mopping his brow, puffing and 
panting. 

“ I’m afraid that we will not get to the Inn again 
to-night,” he sighed. 

“ And we never had any dinner ! ” chimed in 
Oliver ruefully. 


CHAPTER IV 


As he spoke he felt something prick him on the 
arm, and there beside him stood the Proverbial Pin. 

“ Hello,” said Oliver ; “ where did you drop 
from? ” 

“ I fell out of old Bear’s fur coat,” replied Pin. 
“I’ve been all the time with you folks, only you 
never knew it. When I found the old fellow was 
going on, I thought I’d stay with you.” 

Then for the first time Oliver found that Bear had 
disappeared, but everything happened so queerly 
that he thought nothing of it. 

“ Want to go fishing? ” asked the Pin pleasantly. 

Oliver pricked up his ears. This sounded home- 
like and natural. 

“ Sure,” he agreed heartily. 

“ Well, here’s the place,” said the Pin, and Oliver 
was hardly surprised to find a sprawling brook at 
his feet. 

“ But I have no line or hook or bait,” he ex- 
claimed, “ so I can’t fish after all.” 

“ Oh, I’ll fix you all right,” said the Pin cheer- 
fully. “ Take this stick here on the ground beside 
you, and tie this string on it, so,” he went on, suit- 
ing the action to the word. 

36 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 37 


“ Where did the string come from? ” enquired 
Oliver. 

“ Oh, the Chap who always has two strings to his 
bow left it here just now. We must hurry and use 
it before he comes back for it.” 

“ But how about a hook and some bait? ” 

“ Oh, I’ll just bend myself in half, and hold this 
grub in my hands, so. And now, quick, throw me 
in, and I’ll catch you a fish.” 

Oliver w r as so excited that almost before the Pin 
finished speaking the line flew over the water and 
the Pin sank out of sight. In a moment the line was 
jerked violently, and w r hen Oliver pulled it in, there, 
sure enough, was a big glittering fish, struggling in 
the Pin’s embrace. 

In great excitement they both tried to hold the 
fish down on the grassy bank, but every minute it 
grew bigger and bigger and bigger, until finally it 
got so big that it slapped them both flat on their 
backs and dove into the water, with a gay “ Ta-ta ! ” 

Oliver sat up and rubbed his face, then laughed. 

“ Well, what do you think of that? ” he said. 

“ I should call it a fish story, if I hadn’t been 
here myself,” answered the Pin. 

“ I don’t think I care to fish any more,” said 
Oliver. 

“ All right,” said the Pin, “ let’s go over there and 
watch the Society Angler.” 

“ Who’s that, and what’s he doing? ” 


38 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ Oh, lie’s fishing for compliments, and says he 
doesn’t care whether he gets anything or not; but 
you bet he does. He uses big chunks of taffy for 
bait.” 

“ I shouldn’t think he would catch a thing with 
that kind of bait,” said Oliver. 

“ Every now and then he catches an old flounder 
or sheephead, but mostly he gets left.” 

As the Pin finished speaking, a big fish stuck his 
head out of the water and called out, 

“ Come in, won’t you, — the water’s fine. I’m 
not as sheepish as I look, and I can show you lots 
of interesting things. Come in.” 

And without thinking it in any way a strange 
thing to do, Oliver stepped into the stream and in- 
stantly found himself at the bottom, walking on a 
sandy beach with all sorts of strange creatures float- 
ing around him. The sand was covered with every 
kind of seashell, crabs and crawfish. Caves of 
beautiful rocks were on every side, with red coral 
and many sea flowers covering them. 

“ This is the Sea King’s Palace,” said the Sheep- 
head, pointing to a beautiful big cave in front of 
them. 

“ I thought Sea Kings only belonged in fairy 
stories,” said Oliver. 

“ It doesn’t do to think too much about some 
things,” replied the Sheephead ; “ if one did, there 
would be no surprises left.” 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 39 


“ That sounds very sensible,” said Oliver 
thoughtfully. 

“ Well, just so it sounds sensible, it will pass,” 
the Sheephead said ; “ sounds are the foundations of 
sentiments, but maybe you are too young to know 
what that means.” 

Before Oliver could answer, they had entered the 
cave, which was so brightly lighted that he asked if 
it was electric light, and found that it was the phos- 
phorescent glow from hundreds of fish floating in 
the ceiling of the cave. 

“ They have the hardest job in the King’s court,” 
explained the Sheephead ; “ they must always be 
bright, it doesn’t make any difference how blue or 
gloomy they feel. Whenever a fish gets melancholy 
he is given that job to cure him. Over there is the 
conservatory,” he continued ; “ it is filled with sea 
anemones of every color. And there, way back in 
that dark corner, is the King’s pantry. In it are 
kept the crabs, lobsters, oysters, and fish that the 
King eats. It is considered the most fashionable 
and exclusive place in the Palace, and every day 
hundreds of applicants are turned away.” 

“ I shouldn’t think any one would want the job 
of being eaten,” exclaimed Oliver. 

“ That’s because you’ve never tried it,” proudly 
answered the Sheephead. “ Think of what an honor 
it is to be assured that you agree with your King. 
Only those are admitted to the royal pantry who 


40 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


the chef is sure will agree with the royal diges- 
tion.” 

“ But after they’ve been roasted and broiled, how 
would they know whether they’d agreed with the 
King or not? ” persisted Oliver. 

“ You’re very stupid,” said the Sheephead ; “ of 
course if any one roasts another, it’s a sign they 
don’t agree; but down here there are no fires, so no 
one gets roasted. Aspirants to the royal taste are 
simply gobbled up whole.” 

Oliver was about to say that he had always been 
told at home that it was very vulgar to gobble your 
food, but was interrupted by the entrance of the 
King followed by a great crowd of fish of all kinds 
in gorgeous, brilliant colors. He had expected to 
see something like a merman, but the King was 
rather small in comparison to his big body guard, 
and wore a simple red robe. He seated himself on 
his white coral throne, and Oliver found himself 
making his best dancing school bow before him. 

“ How do you like it down here? ” asked the King. 

“ I think it’s splendid,” replied Oliver. 

“ You must say ‘ Your Majesty,’ ” croaked the 
Sheephead in his ear. 

“ That would sound ridiculous,” said Oliver, 
pushing the Sheephead away. 

“ Ridiculous things are often all right if people 
are only good-natured,” smiled the King. 

Oliver felt ashamed. 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 41 


“ I didn’t mean to be rude,” he stammered. 

“ Half the fun in life is ruined by the ‘ didn’t 
means,’ ” the King said kindly. 

“ I beg your pardon, your Majesty,” said Oliver 
quickly. 

“ That’s all right,” said the King. “ I see you 
are a kind, well-mannered boy. I’ll sing you a song 
which I wrote myself, and I hope you’ll remember 
it.” 

Whereupon a curious shaped instrument was 
handed to him by a pompous old lobster. It was 
made of a shell with a handle of pink coral. In- 
stead of playing it as Oliver expected, the King 
handed it to him, remarking, 

“ Hold that to your ear, and you’ll hear the music 
to my song.” 

He did as he was told, and heard the sweetest 
strains of music. Then the King began in rather a 
sing-song voice : 

“ Oh, ridiculous things are often right 
If good-nature paves the way, 

And laughter makes silly things bright, — 

For who’s really clever, pray? 

“ The person who tries to be very deep, 

And solemnly talks all day, 

Misses lots of fun, awake or asleep, 

Never having a chance to get gay. 


42 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ To write a book that shocks every one, 

Of course, may often pay, 

But to cause a smile by making a pun 
Is by far the nicer way. 

“ To ask to a ball, or dine or w ine, 

People who bore you flat 
Some folks seem to think is very fine, 

But I know I could beat that pat. 

CHORUS 

“ For ridiculous things are’ often right 
If good-nature paves the way, 

And laughter makes silly things bright, — 

For who’s really clever, pray ? ” 

The song trailed off into silence, and Oliver, who 
was very drowsy, turned to look for the Sheephead, 
when he found himself floating on top of the water, 
with his head pillow r ed on top of the big creature. 

“ Hello ! ” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes, 
“ where’s the King and everybody? ” 

“ My dear boy,” replied the kindly fellow, “ their 
singing was so soothing that you went to sleep, and 
I brought you up here, as it is decidedly bad to sleep 
under the water.” 

“ How do you all get on, then? ” asked Oliver. 

“ Ah,” said the Sheephead, winking one eye 
slowly, “ no one has ever caught a fish napping yet. 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 43 


That’s a secret. But there’s a friend of yours wait- 
ing on the bank for you.” 

And sure enough, there sat Bear patiently wait- 
ing, his back against a big tree, his little eyes fixed 
sadly on the stream. 

Oliver waved his cap to him and scrambled 
ashore, then turned and held out his hand to the 
Sheephead. It didn’t seem at all strange to find 
his clothes quite dry. 

“ Good-bye,” he said, “ and thank you ever so 
much for giving me such a fine time, and,” — he 
added quickly, “ I’m sorry I was rude. I didn’t 
me — , that is, I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

The Sheephead smiled broadly, showing all his 
teeth. 

“ I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said ; “ and 
I think you learned something, too.” He waved a 
fin and disappeared under the water. 

Oliver hastened to Bear, who seemed delighted 
to see him and gave him a good hug. 

“ My,” he said with a sigh of relief, “ I am glad 
you turned up. I was almost afraid the fishes had 
eaten you.” 

Oliver laughed. “ No danger of that; I’m afraid 
I would not agree with the King.” Bear looked 
puzzled, but Oliver went on, “ But I am hungry 
enough to eat them or anything else.” 

“ I’m with you,” said Bear. “ I’m as hungry as 
my great-grandfather, the Hungry Bear.” 


44 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


Oliver was just about to ask him if that was how 
the saying “ hungry as a Bear” started, when they 
heard some one call, “ Hello ! Hello ! ” 


CHAPTER V 


“ Come up and have supper with me,” said a 
cheerful voice; and looking up, Oliver saw a little 
bird in the tree over their heads. He was a gay 
looking little fellow’, with sparkling eyes, and head 
cocked spryly on one side. Oliver was so used to 
doing out of the way things by this time that it 
seemed quite natural to follow Bear as he slowly 
climbed the tree. 

Once up, he found that a bird’s nest, although it 
looks small from the ground, is really quite big 
when you get in it. It was cosy and homelike, with 
well cushioned sides that made a very comfortable 
resting place. 

Bear, ’tis true, had to sit in the big branches just 
outside, but as the Bird had no family, Oliver and 
himself had all the nest to themselves. 

He listened, amused, to many tales the Little 
Bird told him, but while his host chatted away 
about this or that, and told lots of funny stories 
about the forest folk that caused Bear to chuckle so 
that he nearly fell out of the tree, Oliver never 
heard a mean or disagreeable remark. 

“ Are you ‘ the Little Bird ’ that people often 
speak of? ” he asked presently. 

45 


46 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


The Bird gave a little “ Ha, ha ! ” 

“ Why, of course I am, and your friends Bear and 
For-Bear know me well. But don’t, for goodness 
sake, get me mixed up in your mind with the Early 
Bird fellow! I flatter myself that I am at least 
honest, while he is a great old fraud. He thinks it 
sounds fine to be thought such an early riser when 
as a matter of fact he’s a lazy old chap, and the 
Worm is the early riser, as every one knows. I 
have no patience with the Early Bird. Suppose 
he does get breakfast a bit earlier than the rest of 
us, — it’s because he can’t sleep in the morning. He 
and his friend, Miss Busy Bee, are two dyspeptic 
old gossips. Have you met her? No? Well, I’ll 
bet she knows all about you! She buzzes around 
all day long because she can’t keep still. She likes 
people to think she is a great worker when, if the 
truth were known, she does nothing. But there! 
I musn’t get ill-natured. I have wanted to meet 
you for a long time to tell you that I know what’s 
going to happen to-morrow ! ” He ended triumph- 
antly, with his head on one side, looking gaily at 
Oliver. 

“ What’s going to happen? ” he asked eagerly. 

“Why, don’t you know? To-morrow is your 
birthday, and you are to have a fine party. All 
your friends will be there. Don’t tell anyone that 
I told you, for it is a secret, you know.” 

Oliver was just about to tell the Little Bird that 



“ ‘ Are you “ the Little Bird ” that people often 

speak of ? 5 ” 



48 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


lie had made a mistake in thinking that the next 
day was his birthday, when suddenly the Proverbial 
Pin dropped into the nest, exclaiming, 

“ Hurry, hurry ! You’ll be late for the party ! 
The Chip is almost flying into pieces, the Quiet 
Mouse is getting noisy, and even For-Bear is growl- 
ing a bit. So do hurry and come along ! ” 

No sooner had he finished speaking than Oliver 
found himself hurrying through the woods beside 
the Pin, with the Bear panting behind him. 

It was dark beneath the trees, and the walking 
rough, and Oliver felt very tired. He stumbled 
against the outspreading roots of a great oak tree 
and heard a deep voice call, 

“Who? Who?” 

“ It’s me,” replied Oliver, too weary to use good 
English. “ Who are you? ” 

“ Who — Who — ? ” said the deep voice. 

“ Oh, shucks,” exclaimed the Pin ; “ that’s the 
Stupid Owl. An awful bore. Don’t stop to listen 
to him.” 

But Oliver was in no hurry, so when a door 
opened in the side of the tree and a big, fluffy old 
owl invited him in, he stepped inside, calling to the 
Pin and Bear that he’d only be a minute, “ so please 
wait.” 

Once inside, he was surprised to find himself in 
a little library just like the one at home. 

A fire glowed cheerily in the grate, and he 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 49 


seated himself in a big armchair and shut his eyes, 
— it was all so comfortable and nice. 

The owl was a solemn-looking old chap, and 
though he did not crack any jokes or say anything 
funny, he did not seem stupid to Oliver. Maybe 
he was feeling rather quiet himself, or a bit drowsy 
in front of the warm fire. However it was, he en- 
joyed his new friend. 

“ Did it ever strike you that when you feel dull 
yourself is just the time that the other fellow seems 
stupid? ” enquired the Owl in a hoarse voice. 

“ I expect that’s so,” said Oliver, yawning. 

“Are you good at conundrums? ” asked the Owl 
after a pause. 

“ I don’t know,” hesitated Oliver. 

“ Then of course you are,” put in the Owl, con- 
tinuing ; “ now this is an English conundrum : 
‘When is an ’owl not an ’owl?’ When it’s a 
screech.’ See? ” 

“ I don’t think much of that ! ” exclaimed Oliver, 
suddenly sitting up. 

“ I think that’s quite bright,” said the Owl 
solemnly. “ Now, I’ll ask you another which I 
made up myself : ‘ Why is an owl one of the clever- 

est creatures in the world? ’ ” 

“ I didn’t know it was,” said Oliver. 

“ Because,” continued the Owl, exactly as though 
Oliver hadn’t spoken, “ because it doesn’t need to 
have any light thrown on the subject.” 


50 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ What subject? ” asked Oliver. 

“ Any subject/’ replied the Owl solemnly. 

Oliver didn’t see what be meant, and was very 
near dozing, when a heavy knock shook the door, 
and the Bear’s deep voice Avas heard calling him. 

He suddenly remembered his friends outside, and 
ran out, saying goodnight very hastily to the Owl, 
who never moved and seemed sound asleep. Out in 
the cool night air he stretched himself and laughed, 
and then told the Bear and the Pin how sorry he 
was to have kept them Avaiting. 

The Bear grunted, almost out of humor, Avhile the 
Pin couldn’t resist pricking his arm just a wee 
bit. 

“ Why, I always thought that Owls were very 
wise,” said Oliver. 

“ My dear boy, that is an old mistake which 
has never been corrected,” the Pin remarked, as if 
he knew Avhat he was talking about. “ As a mat- 
ter of fact, he is just an old bluffer.” 

“ What’s that? ” inquired Oliver. 

“ A Bluffer is a person who keeps quiet when he 
does not know a thing, and looks so wise that 
everyone thinks he knoAvs it all. Most wise people 
are quiet, but all quiet people aren’t wise,” the Pin 
finished grandly. 

“He told me some conundrums,” said Oliver; 
“ but now I can’t remember them, somehow.” 

“ Stupid people always ask conundrums, and 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 51 


silly ones make puns,” said the Pin crossly. “ I’m 
sure we don’t want to hear them.” 

“ Oh, well,” said kindly Bear, “ you know the 
old saying, 

“ ‘ A little nonsense then and now 
Is better far than wits that row.’ ” 

Oliver was just going to tell Bear that he hadn’t 
said the lines quite right when he tripped and fell, 
and kept on falling, falling, falling. 

If anyone had told him, he would never have be- 
lieved it possible that he could fall down an ant’s 
hole, but that’s just what happened. He landed on 
a nice soft pile of sand at the bottom, none the 
worse for his tumble. 

It was light and warm, and he sat up and looked 
around to find himself in quite a good-sized cave 
with many little passages running off from it in 
different directions. Presently there came swarm- 
ing from these, hundreds of little ants almost 
tumbling over him, which he did not like, when 
there hastened up two ants in color and size very 
different from the others. They were large and 
handsome, wearing neat dresses and black silk 
aprons, with white ruffles in the necks and wrists 
of their grey dresses. Their eyes looked very big 
behind gold rimmed spectacles, and large white mob 
caps covered their heads. 


52 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ Go back to tlie nursery, children ! ” they cried in 
shrill voices, and commenced getting the little ants 
together, driving them off through the different 
passages. 

They were back again in a moment and stood 
staring at Oliver. 

“ Can we do anything for you? ” one of them 
finally said. 

“ Yes,” he replied a trifle awkwardly, “ I just 
dropped in to see the lady of the house a minute.” 
For the life of him he couldn’t think of anything 
else to say. 

“ I’ll call one of them,” said the ant who had 
spoken first, and off she went very briskly, followed 
more slowly by the other two, who turned their 
heads several times to look at Oliver. It wasn’t 
long before he heard a pleasant voice saying, 

“How d’ye do! Can I do anything for you?” 
and turning round, looked into a pair of such kind 
eyes that he lost his heart to the speaker at once. 
She was different again from the other ants, — any 
one could tell by her lovely dress and the lace scarf 
about her head that she was a perfect lady. 

“ Are you the lady of the house? ” inquired 
Oliver politely. 

“ I am one of them,” she said. “ Won’t you sit 
down? ” And then for the first time Oliver noticed 
the comfortable sofa at hand, and seated himself 
beside the lady Ant. 



“ 6 Go back to the nursery, children ! ’ ” 



54 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


He told her how he had fallen down the hole in 
the ground. She smiled and shook her head. 

“ Too bad, poor boy,” she exclaimed. “ You see, 
our elevator is out of order ; I’m so sorry.” 

“ Well, anyhow, I’m glad I got here,” said Oliver 
gallantly, adding, “ say, are all those your children 
I saw just now? ” 

“No,” said the Ant; “they are my nieces and 
nephews, but they are just like my own, I am so 
fond of them.” 

“ What do you do all day down here, ma’am, and 
what do the little ones do? ” asked Oliver, still cu- 
rious. 

“ Oh, we have lots to do. The children have 
school in the morning and learn how to dig and 
carry grains of sand, food, and all sorts of useful 
things. Then the nurses have to look after them; 
the workers are busy all day cleaning ; and the hunt- 
ers go out after provisions; and so on. Each one 
has his or her special work. I am always busy, as 
I find the children all come to me when their moth- 
ers are out or at work about the house.” She 
paused and looked at Oliver kindly. “ Have you an 
aunt, my dear? ” 

“ Yes,” replied he quickly, “ and I certainly do 
love her ! ” 

“ They are pretty nice to have when a boy needs 
some little things, such as a bit of advice, or some 
small change,” put in the ant, smiling slyly. 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 55 


“ They are nice all the time/’ said Oliver stoutly. 

“ I am sure your aunt loves you dearly/’ said his 
companion earnestly ; “ and I hope you are very nice 
to her.” 

Oliver looked down, remembering some occasions 
on which he hadn’t been very nice to his kind aunt. 
When he looked up the pleasant face of the lady 
Ant had faded almost aw*ay. Though he put out 
his hand to hold her and called her, she disappeared 
entirely, and he found himself sitting under a hay- 
stack, with the sun shining brightly on the close- 
cropped grass of a meadow that stretched before 
him. 


CHAPTER VI 


While he was wondering what had become of the 
Ant, and feeling rather lonely, he watched a little 
white lamb that was grazing a few yards from him. 
He was attracted by the very white wool of the little 
creature, and by the fact that there was a blue rib- 
bon around its neck, hanging from which was a 
little fan. That seemed to him to be so odd that he 
jumped up and ran to the Lamb, asking why she had 
a fan instead of a bell around her neck. 

“ That is to fan the Elephant with,” replied the 
Lamb in a gentle voice. And when Oliver looked 
puzzled, she added, “ If you care to come with me, 
I’ll take you to our dancing school. It’s just about 
time for it to begin.” 

They had walked but a short distance when they 
came to a big hall, which Oliver saw at a glance was 
crowded with a regular menagerie of animals. 
Monkeys were chasing one another up and down the 
slippery floor, holding each other’s tails and scream- 
ing and chattering with glee and mischief. Two 
or three giraffes sat sedately against the wall, 
watching some little giraffes who were practising 
steps for the minuet. 

In one corner a beautiful young leopard was pos- 

56 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 57 


ing with a great show of vanity in a Spanish dance, 
with a black lace scarf on her head fastened over one 
ear with a red rose. Every few steps she rattled 
castanets. In another part of the room a good- 
natured hippopotamus smiled blandly while she 
watched with pride her buxom cub dancing the 
Highland Fling, and before a big looking-glass at 
the end of the hall a magnificent peacock strutted 
up and down with mincing steps. 

There was such a din and noise that Oliver could 
hardly hear the Lamb’s voice when she pulled his 
sleeve and told him to follow her. He found him- 
self in a far corner where sat a sorry-looking Ele- 
phant. He was sitting on a stool with his head 
bowed over his knees, crying. He looked so sad 
that Oliver forgot how ridiculous it was to see an 
Elephant crying, and in his kindest voice he asked 
what the trouble was. The poor creature looked up, 
tears as big as a bucket falling from his eyes. 

“ You are very kind,” he said in a sobbing voice, 
“ almost as kind as the Gentle Lamb, — you’ve heard 
of the Gentle Lamb, haven’t you? ” he went on in a 
more cheerful tone. 

“ I met a Lamb just now,” said Oliver, looking 
around to see w T hat had become of his companion of 
a few minutes before, but she was not in sight. 

“ Every boy and girl has heard of the Gentle 
Lamb,” said the Elephant. “ I am very fond of 
her,” he sniffled ; “ indeed, I don’t know what I’d do 


58 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


without her. The dancing master is so cross with 
me, and I try so hard, and can’t get the step right, 
and oh! oh! oh! . . .” He burst into tears and 
started rocking himself back and forth, rolling his 
eyes in a most alarming manner. 

Oliver was frightened, fearing that he’d have a 
fit or faint or go into hysterics, and was just about 
to call someone when the Gentle Lamb appeared be- 
side the great cry-baby and began to fan him with 
the little fan she had tied round her neck with the 
blue ribbon. 

“ He’s so nervous, poor fellow,” she murmured, 
“ and his feelings are very easily hurt. You see he 
is studying for the stage, and is here learning a 
Grecian dance. He is sure he could easily do it, 
but the dancing master keeps calling him awkward, 
which he naturally feels very much.” 

The Elephant got slowly up. 

“If you would like me to do so, I’ll dance for 
you,” he announced. 

Oliver was anxious to see him dance, but suddenly 
there was a terrific explosion, and the next minute 
he felt himself sailing through the air. 

“ Well ! ” exclaimed the well-known voice of the 
Chip, “ I had begun to think we were not to meet 
again, and don’t suppose we would if I had not been 
flung up into the air when the house blew up. It’s 
fortunate we all lit in this balloon, isn’t it? ” 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 59 


Then for the first time Oliver, looking about, 
saw that he was in a big balloon with the Elephant, 
the Gentle Lamb, and his two old friends, the Chip 
and the Pin. There was a mischievous looking 
monkey aboard, too, who seemed to be managing 
the trip. 

“ What made the dance hall blow up ? ” he in- 
quired of that person. 

“ W T ell, you see, the Laughing Hyena got funny 
and hid a piece of dynamite in the Elephant’s 
trunk, and the Elephant got mad with the danc- 
ing master because he called him awkward, and 
he threw his trunk at him, thinking it was empty, 
and — Kerlaw ! Boom ! Poof ! — And here we 
are.” 

“ But how did we get in this balloon ? ” 

“ Oh, we all just fell in,” replied the monkey 
carelessly. 

Before Oliver could ask any more questions the 
Pin cried out, 

“ We’re about to bump into the trees ! Quick ! 
throw out your ballast ! ” 

The monkey looked helpless, bit his nails, and 
chattered his teeth nervously. 

“ Hurry ! ” called the Pin. 

“ Quick ! ” screamed the Chip. 

The Gentle Lamb commenced to fan the Ele- 
phant, who was weeping. 


60 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ We haven’t anything to throw out,” giggled 
the Monkey. 

“ Throw out your trunk ! ” yelled the Pin to the 
Elephant. 

“ It was lost in the explosion,” moaned the big 
creature, weeping harder than ever. 

They were scraping the tops of the trees and all 
gave themselves up for lost, when a sudden cur- 
rent of air carried the balloon away. Up, up, up 
they went until everything below them was lost 
to view. Now they grew more frightened than 
ever. 

“ Oh ! ” cried Oliver, “ I don’t like this at all. 
My stomach’s fainted! It’s worse than going on 
a Spree ! ” 

“ Let some of the gas out,” advised the Pin. 

But the monkey didn’t know how, and was too 
scared to move anyhow. The Elephant was in 
hysterics, the Gentle Lamb looked ready to faint, 
and the Chip was clinging to Oliver’s shoulder, 
weeping and scolding. 

The Pin finally called to all to “ Sit tight ! ” and 
climbing into the rigging, cooly proceeded to make 
a hole in the gas bag. In a few minutes they were 
rapidly descending towards the green forest. The 
monkey disembarked first and swung himself down 
by the guide rope. When they got near the top of 
a big tree, Oliver could wait no longer, so jumped 
and landed safely in the big cool branches, and slid 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 61 


down to the ground. He lay stunned for a few 
seconds, and when he opened his eyes there stood 
the queerest looking rabbit he’d ever seen. 


CHAPTER VII 


It was just like the rabbits he found on the 
breakfast table Easter morning. Oliver stared at 
him. 

“ How d’ye do,” said the queer looking creature. 
“ I’m the Easter Rabbit, and you look very much 
like an Easter boy, but I hope you are not.” 

“ Why? ” asked Oliver, forgetting to tell his 
name. 

“ Because that kind of boy always pulls an 
Easter Rabbit’s head off as soon as he sees one.” 

“ How wicked ! ” exclaimed Oliver. “ I shouldn’t 
think of pulling your head off. That’s cruelty to 
animals, and I belong to the Society for Prevention 
of Cruelty to Animals.” 

“ Oh, then you are all right,” said the Easter 
Rabbit ; “ and if you want to you can come with me, 
and I’ll show you my Egg Factory.” 

“ I didn’t know eggs were made in a factory ; I 
thought they were just laid,” said Oliver, as they 
walked along. 

“ We make them first and lay them around after- 
wards,” explained the Easter Rabbit. “ Here we 
are. Now come in, and you’ll see how it’s done.” 

The room they entered looked like an enormous 
62 



“ ‘ Fm the Easter Rabbit/ 99 



64 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


kitchen, bright, clean, and sunny, filled with large 
tables at which were rabbits in caps and aprons, 
some busy rolling into shape the egg paste, while 
others colored and decorated the candy eggs. At 
one end of the room was a big stove, around which 
were several more rabbits, stirring huge pots of 
sugar and stuff, and ladling it out to those who 
stood ready with bowls. It was a busy scene, and 
the air smelt so nice and sweet that Oliver’s mouth 
watered. 

“ I would let you taste some,” said the Easter 
Rabbit, “but it’s against the rules to let any one 
have an Easter egg until Easter morning. How- 
ever, I’ll put one in your pocket, if you’ll promise 
not to eat it till Easter. Now, this is a thirteenth 
egg, and has a magic charm in it.” 

“ What’s that? ” asked Oliver. 

“ I’ll explain,” said the Easter Rabbit. “ Every 
thirteenth egg has inside it a tiny little letter which 
tells you how you can get to the Easter Egg Fac- 
tory. Of course, you see no one has ever yet known 
about the Thirteenth Egg, so you will be the first 
boy to find out about it. But remember,” he added 
very seriously, “ if you eat this egg before Easter, 
you won’t see the little letter, and you’ll never find 
out how to get back here.” 

“ I promise,” said Oliver; “ that is, I’ll try.” 

The Easter Rabbit laughed and winked at the 
others, then picked out a beautiful blue, white, and 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 65 


gold egg, and slipped it into Oliver’s pocket. He 
was so busy peeping at it from time to time that he 
hardly had eyes for anything else. 

He vaguely remembered going through room 
after room, full of eggs of every kind and color 
heaped up in piles, but none of them as beautiful 
as the one in his pocket. Finally the Easter Rab- 
bit took him out into a big yard where the grass 
was as smooth and green as a velvet carpet, and 
there all over the lawn were nests made of fuzzy 
green stuff like fringe, and filled with lovely pink, 
blue, purple, yellow, green, and speckled eggs. 

In one corner of the yard were a lot of funny 
looking little chickens and ducks. The Easter 
Rabbit gave Oliver a bag of tiny round candies and 
told him to feed them. 

“ Why, they eat this as if it were corn ! ” he ex- 
claimed, as he threw handful after handful on the 
grass and watched the chickens and ducks gobble 
it up. 

“ That’s their regular food,” explained the Easter 
Rabbit. “ You know,” he continued, “ they all 
have to be filled for Easter, and it would take dread- 
fully long to do it in any other way, so we feed 
them with candy every now and then, and by 
Easter they are up to the brim.” 

“ Where do they come from? ” asked Oliver. 

“ Ah, that’s a secret,” whispered the Easter Rab- 
bit, close to his ear. “ That’s a secret, and I can 


66 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


only tell you on condition you can answer this co- 
nundrum: How many lays make a lie? ” 

Oliver was puzzling his wits to find an answer, 
when suddenly the Easter Rabbit seized his arm 
screaming, “ Oh, oh ! here comes Jack Frost! He’ll 
crack all the eggs if we don’t chase him out. Help 
me to run him away ! ” 

So off they went after what looked to Oliver like 
an old tramp in a suit of white pajamas, with long 
white hair and a flowing beard. They ran after 
him as fast as they could go, the Easter Rabbit 
shouting and throwing eggs at him in his excite- 
ment. Oliver was getting pretty tired, and was 
glad when the Easter Rabbit suggested that they 
should sit down and rest. 

Hardly had they seated themselves, however, 
when they saw Jack Frost starting towards them 
again. He looked very raggerty and ugly, and 
Oliver felt cold shivers running up and down his 
back, while the Easter Rabbit appeared frozen stiff. 
There’s no telling what would have happened if 
there had not appeared a strange and beautiful 
creature at the very moment when Jack Frost was 
about to pounce on them. Oliver hadn’t time to 
think whether it was a gentleman or a lady, he was 
so surprised at what happened. The lovely crea- 
ture, glistening in a green and white robe covered 
with crystal drops like dew, its hair shining like 
sunlight, its face like a pink rose, raised a great 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 67 

wand and held it over Jack Frost, who crouched 
close to the ground, not daring to move. Presently 
Oliver noticed that from the green wand there was 
falling a fine spray of water beneath which Jack 
Frost was slowly melting away. As the last of 
him trickled over the grass, the beautiful spirit 
began singing like a little bird and flew away 
through the trees. 

When it was out of sight Oliver gave a gasp. 

“Who was that?” he asked the Easter Rabbit, 
who had recovered and was sitting up, looking as 
lively as usual. 

“ That’s the April Shower, and she surely did us 
a good turn, though I’ll bet old Jack Frost will be 
back again just when we don’t expect him. Hor- 
rid thing! He thinks himself very killing, but I 
never could stand him.” 

Then suddenly turning to Oliver, he asked pleas- 
antly, 

“Won’t you have some candy? Help yourself, 
only be sure and put my head on straight when you 
get through.” And to Oliver’s surprise the Easter 
Rabbit pulled off his head and showed himself 
filled up to the brim with the same kind of little 
candies that they had fed the Easter Ducks and 
Chickens on. 

Oliver helped himself and hastened to replace 
the Easter Rabbit’s head carefully. 

“ Thank you very much,” he said. 



“ Beneath which Jack Frost was slowly melting away. v 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 69 


“ Thank you ” replied the Easter Rabbit, “ for 
putting back my head so nicely. Some children 
put it on backside first, which is very awkward. 
And now I must be going,” he continued, “ so good- 
bye till Easter. Here’s a Jack o’Lantern who’ll 
take you through the forest.” 

Then the Easter Rabbit went hopping off through 
the trees, and Oliver turned towards his new ac- 
quaintance. 

He was a queer looking little chap like a 
Brownie. In his head he held a lantern which gave 
a bright, twinkling light. Oliver was glad of that, 
as it was getting well on towards dusk. 

“ Where are we going? ” he asked. 

“ To find the bag of gold at the end of the rain- 
bow,” replied the Jack o’Lantern briskly. 

“ I don’t see any rainbow,” said Oliver. 

“ That’s because you never looked. It’s right 
overhead, where it’s been ever since the rain this 
afternoon. See,” and he pointed to the sky, and 
there, sure enough, was a great rainbow beginning 
to fade now in the sunset glow. 

“ Is there really and truly gold at the end of 
it? ” asked Oliver. 

“ Sure,” replied the Jack o’Lantern ; “ at both 
ends, but we can’t go to but one end at a time un- 
less you go one way and I another, and as you don’t 
know the way, you’d get lost, so come with me, — 
and we must hurry ! ” 


70 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


Whereupon the Jack o’Lantern caught Oliver by 
the hand and started out at flying leaps and 
bounds. How he managed to keep up Oliver didn’t 
know, but somehow he found himself leaping and 
bounding through the woods and then out over the 
meadow and marsh with the Jack o’ Lantern’s light 
twinkling between them, the rainbow getting nearer 
and nearer, bigger and bigger and brighter and 
brighter, until, lo and behold, with a final leap they 
landed right at the foot of it. It was a glorious 
sight, this giant rainbow of splendid shining col- 
ors, going right up from the ground into the sky! 
Oliver was so busy looking at it, and walking back 
and forth through it that he would have forgotten 
all about the gold if Jack o’Lantern hadn’t called 
to him, 

“ Come on and help. If we don’t get it before 
the rainbow fades out we’ll not be able to find it.” 

So he went to work with the Jack o’Lantern, who 
was digging away in the ground, and presently they 
came to a big stone that they rolled away, and 
there in plain view beneath it lay a bag so full of 
gold that it was bursting out on every side ! 

“ Hurry, hurry ! ” panted the Jack o’Lantern ; 
“ the rainbow’s almost gone. You catch hold of 
one end of the bag and I’ll take the other, and we’ll 
pull it up. Now, — one, two, three! ” 

But alas ! pull and tug as hard and long as they 
could, they could not budge the bag of gold an inch, 





“ A bag so full of gold that it was bursting.” 


72 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


and while they were panting and pulling and haul- 
ing, the rainbow disappeared, and instantly with it 
the gold treasure! 

“Now, look what your laziness has cost us!” 
cried the Jack o’Lantern angrily. 

“ It’s not my fault,” replied Oliver, equally cross. 
“We couldn’t lift it, that’s all ! ” 

“ It was your fault, too,” said Jack o’Lantern, 
ready to cry. “ You’re always just a little too 
late about everything. You’d get better marks in 
school, if you weren’t.” 

“ Oh, shut up,” cried Oliver rudely, feeling his 
temper rise. 

“ Shut up yourself,” returned Jack o’Lantern. 

And the next minute they were at each other and 
in the thick of a fight. A terrific jab from Jack 
o’Lantern ! 

“ There, I’ve smashed that old Easter Egg, and 
I’m glad of it ! ” cried he. 

Biff, bam, crash! 

“ And there goes your old lantern ! ” cried Oliver, 
furious over the loss of his present from the Easter 
Rabbit. 

There was a sudden stop to the fight, as with the 
lantern broken they found themselves in the dark. 

“Now, we’re lost!” exclaimed Oliver, and he 
burst into tears. 

“ Don’t be such a baby ; you’re not lost at all,” 
said a cross voice, and there stood the Chip. 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 73 


“ You never would have gotten into a fight if you 
hadn’t let that horrid Jack o’Lantern knock me off 
your shoulder,” she continued, crying. 

“ I didn’t know you were there,” said Oliver, feel- 
ing quite relieved at the sight of an old friend 
again. 

“ You never do know it,” snapped the Chip. 

“ Come, now, don’t quarrel ! ” interposed a kindly 
voice ; and to Oliver’s delight he saw Bear and For- 
Bear, the Pin, the Quiet Mouse, the Little Bird, in 
fact all his friends gathered round him, and the 
next moment he found himself beside a long table, 
brightly lighted and covered with all sorts of good 
things to eat. Even the Jack o’Lantern joined the 
festive crowd, and Oliver recognized the Old Sheep- 
head, the Gentle Lamb, the Awkward Elephant and 
many others. 


CHAPTER VIII 


“ Well ! ” exclaimed Bear, “ here you are at last. 
We thought you were lost. Come, Oliver, and sit 
at the head of the table, as this is your birthday 
party.” 

So Oliver seated himself in a big chair before 
a table piled so high with parcels of various sizes 
that his eyes fairly bulged with excitement. But 
what was his surprise when old Bear said with a 
smile, 

“ Now, Oliver, give the presents to your guests. 
You will find their names written quite plainly 
on each one.” 

Tears of disappointment filled his eyes, but a 
sniffling sound from the Chip beside him made him 
turn angrily towards her. 

“ Do stop crying ; you make me sick ! ” he ex- 
claimed. 

“ Stop crying yourself,” she whispered, “ and 
give me my present. It’s a bucket, I know, because 
I bought it myself.” 

“ Then how can I give it to you if you bought it 
yourself? ” asked Oliver crossly. 

But here For-Bear interrupted and said pleas- 
antly, 


74 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 75 


“ Everyone is waiting for you to give them their 
presents. You know your birthday is the time to 
remember those who have been kind and pleasant 
to you during the past year.” 

This was certainly a new way of celebrating his 
birthday, but he wanted to be polite, so he took up 
a nice looking package, all wrapped in white paper 
and tied with red ribbon, and read : 

“ For the Proverbial Pin, with the hope that he’ll 
always stick close to his friend Oliver.” 

When it was opened, amid great excitement, 
there was a lovely soft cushion. The Pin was de- 
lighted, and standing in it, bowed to Oliver, ex- 
claiming, 

“ Thank you, Oliver. May you get into all 
the good things of life as easily as I get into 
this ! ” 

And he disappeared up to his head in the soft 
red velvet. And that was the last Oliver saw of 
him. 

The next package was very large and contained 
two fine fur coats, one for Bear and one for For- 
Bear. They were perfectly enchanted with such 
handsome presents, and after being helped into 
them, thanked Oliver heartily and said while they 
held his hands, 

“ Dear Oliver, may the comfort of bearing with 
others and the warmth of forbearance ever be 
yours ! ” 


76 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


And then they slowly walked away, much to 
Oliver’s regret. 

But he had not time to get blue, for his other 
friends were waiting for their gifts. There was a 
round heavy package for the Quiet Mouse, who gave 
a squeak of delight upon opening it, displaying a 
splendid cheese ! 

“ Oh, Oliver, how can I thank you ! ” he said. 
“ It has always been the dream of my life to own 
a whole big cheese! My dear friend, may fortune 
be good to you, and may your larder never be 
empty ! ” 

Whereupon the Quiet Mouse scampered away, 
rolling the great cheese before him. 

The next bundle was marked in big letters “ For 
the Little Bird, and contained a bundle of fine, 
clean straw, all ready for building into a beautiful 
new nest. 

“ My dear Oliver, how on earth did you know 
that my old house leaked? ” chirped that worthy, 
hopping round his new possession, head cocked on 
one side, bright eyes shining with pleasure. “A 
thousand thanks,” he continued, “ and may you 
never want for a roof over your head ! ” 

With that he flew away, bearing his present with 
him. 

As the guests crowded around him, Oliver found 
himself standing on his chair, handing out one 
parcel after another, faster and faster. A pair of 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 77 


scales for the Sheephead, a pipe for the old Dream 
Man, spectacles for the Owl, a trunk for the Ele- 
phant, a box of eggs for the Easter Rabbit, an elec- 
tric light bulb for the Jack o’Lantern, and so on. 

As each guest received his gift he disappeared, 
and soon Oliver found himself alone at the now 
empty table. He felt rather sore that all his 
friends had left him, when he heard the sound of 
crying and turned to find the Chip, handkerchief to 
her eyes, her head leaning against his shoulder. 

“ Do go away ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ You — you — you never gave me any present ! ” 
she replied with a fresh burst of tears. 

“ Well, look at me ; I never got a thing, and it’s 
my birthday,” said Oliver sulkily. 

“ You’re so greedy,” snapped the Chip. 
“ Haven’t you gotten twelve new months since your 
last birthday, and started on twelve more. That 
makes twenty-four presents. You’re hard to 
please ! ” 

Oliver was very angry because he thought that 
the Chip was making fun of him, and when he felt 
something tickling him, he struck out right and 
left. Turning around he saw’, not the Chip, but a 
tall yellow straw standing beside his chair, grinning 
in a most aggravating manner. 

“ And who are you? ” he asked, forgetting his 
grievance against the Chip. 

“ I am the Last Straw,” replied a wisp-like voice. 


78 OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 


“ Well, you just leave me alone, or I’ll do for 
you ! ” exclaimed Oliver hotly. 

And there is no telling what would have hap- 
pened if just then Bear and For-Bear had not sud- 
denly appeared and stepped in between them. 

The next moment Oliver opened his eyes to see his 
two brothers standing over him in the woodshed, 
each one holding him by the arm, and shaking him 
vigorously. 

“ Wake up! Wake up!” they cried. “You’ll 
be late for supper ! ” 

Oliver sat up, dazed, rubbing his eyes. “ Where’s 
the Chip and all the others? ” he asked sleepily. 

His brothers laughed. 

“ You don’t know how you have been going on in 
your sleep! Fighting us when we tried to wake 
you up, and telling us that you’d do for us ! ” 
laughed one. 

“ The only way that we waked you up at last was 
by tickling you with a straw,” said the other. 

But Oliver was still too dazed to be angry. 

“ Well, that sure was a funny dream ! ” he said, 
as he scrambled to his feet and followed his brothers 
into the house. 

Later, after the finest supper he thought he had 
ever eaten, he told them all about it. 

“ I wish that I had seen the queer instrument 
that recorded people’s thoughts,” he said ruefully, 


OLIVER AND THE CRYING CHIP 79 


“ and, oh, dear ! if only I hadn’t lost the Thirteenth 
Egg that the Easter Rabbit gave me; and if we 
could only have gotten out that bag of gold before 
the rainbow faded away ! ” He sighed, then added : 
“ That was a queer birthday party, but it was fine ! ” 

“ To-morrow is your birthday ; you can have a 
party just like it,” smiled his mother. 

“ I’m afraid the Chip would cry and spoil every- 
thing,” said Oliver laughingly, as he went off to 
bed. 















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